


daylight is fading.

by katarama



Series: boy. [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Falling In Love, Pining, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7186682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katarama/pseuds/katarama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you’re really attracted to your best friend’s girlfriend, there usually isn’t anywhere to go from there but downhill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	daylight is fading.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stonerskittles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonerskittles/gifts).



“I know you like him, you know.”

It seems unfair for Allison to drop words like that in the afterglow, when her hairline is soaked with sweat and her cheeks are flushed and her breasts are still covered only through the valiant efforts of one button of the oversized plaid shirt she stole from Stiles.  It seems unfair to bring it up when Stiles’ brain feels hazy and when he can’t stop watching her move, slow and deliberate, looking as fucked out as he feels.  It seems unfair for her eyes to be so bright when Stiles mostly just wants to doze, to run his fingers through her hair until she’s lulled to sleep like him.  

It takes her more.  Sex doesn’t slow her brain down like it does his.  

Or maybe it does, and he just hasn’t figured out how to get her there, yet.  She figured it out too fast, with him.  She was firm with him, told him what to do and expected him to just _obey_ , and it isn’t a thing Stiles would’ve ever expected he would respond well to, but, well.  It kinda worked.  It kinda worked a lot.  Everything about this has worked out much better than expected, because Stiles had been writing up a catastrophe in his head from the start.

When you’re really attracted to your best friend’s girlfriend, there usually isn’t anywhere to go from there but downhill.  Like, way downhill.  Down to hell levels of downhill.

But things didn’t go downhill.  Because the girlfriend was Allison Argent, Miss Virgin Before Scott who, by the way, dated a couple back in San Francisco, and apparently knows a lot about making polyamory and open relationships work.  And the best friend was Scott McCall, Mr. Apparently Immune To Jealousy, because if Stiles were in his shoes, “She did tell me she was polyamorous, and I told her I want her to be happy, even if that means dating or sleeping with other people, too,” would not be his go-to response.  

Maybe that makes Stiles selfish.  Or maybe it makes Scott too selfless.  Or maybe it’s both, a mix of the two.

But even through all of that, even through the awkwardness of sitting down and having a conversation with Scott about _having sex with his girlfriend_ , Stiles had managed to avoid this.  Stiles had managed to avoid Allison’s careful looks while she talked about how she was comfortable with Scott being with other people, too.  About how, with Scott being demisexual, and all, maybe someone close to him might be a good first attempt, if he wanted to try.

Scott had admitted to Allison that he wasn’t sure, that the idea made him skittish, that he wasn’t sure he was polyamorous.  Stiles had looked Allison, a silent “ _see_ ” that Allison never acknowledged.

But apparently they’re doing this now.  Stiles’ brain is running at about two miles per hour, and they’re going to talk about this.

“Do you just have a secret device for that or something?” Stiles asks.  “A Stiles Feelings Radar?”

“And a Stiles Boner Radar, too,” Allison teases.  

Stiles snorts.  “It doesn’t take much to see my boner.  Even he could do that.”

“It’s a shame he hasn’t yet, it’s a nice boner,” Allison replies.  “Though now that I’ve said that, you’re probably going to come forward with some kind of childhood story about ‘that one time...’, and I’ll have to take it back.”

Stiles takes a second to think about it, because the moments when he proves Allison wrong on little things like this, when she gives him the opening to, are always a little bit gratifying.  He remembers summers with Scott going to the public pool, almost losing his trunks when he kept pulling out and chewing on and unraveling the ties on them.  He remembers the time one of Jackson’s friends pantsed him, left him standing in his Batman briefs for the whole P.E. class to see.  He remembers countless times where he and Scott have changed in the same room together, of course, getting ready for bed or getting ready for school when one slept over at the other’s house.  They may have never sunk as low as comparing dicks with each other to see what other boys’ look like, but Scott may very well have seen his dick a couple of times.

Never hard, though.  Stiles has been careful about that, and once Scott got his wolfy senses, he always had the courtesy to knock when he smelled Stiles jerkin’ it, anyway.

“No, he hasn’t,” Stiles finally says.  “He’s never gotten to appreciate the beauty of a Stiles stiffy.”

“He’s missing out,” Allison says.  “You both are.”

“Is this the part where you ask me why I haven’t issued a prompt love confession for my very straight and madly in love with you best friend, or the part where you talk dirty about Scott’s cock?” Stiles asks.  “Because I’m not sure I can really handle either.”

There’s a long silence, and Stiles hopes for a moment that he effectively shut off that conversation, for a while, at least.  

“Neither,” Allison says finally, not unkindly.  “Though I don’t think he’s straight, I also don’t think you can be talked into a relationship with Scott, or you would’ve talked yourself there before I even showed up.  I’m just telling you I know.  And that it’s okay.  I can understand you loving Scott.  If there’s anyone who can understand you loving Scott, it’s me.”

It’s easy for her to say.  While Stiles appreciates the sentiment and knows she’s trying to help, it’s easy for Allison to sit on the sidelines and say it’s okay when she hasn’t been there.  When she hasn’t sat there for years trying to squash every ridiculous butterfly that appeared in her tummy when her best friend smiled at her, like some sort of Disney movie bullshit.  When she hasn’t laid awake in bed at night and let her brain spiral into things she could never have, holding her best friend’s hand and sharing her best friend’s bed in more than a casual sleepover kind of way, going out for dinner with her best friend and calling it a _date_.  When she hasn’t felt her chest ache when her best friend promises forevers, knowing that she’ll drink up every drop of forever her best friend offers and worrying that it will never feel like enough.

“It’s okay for you,” Stiles clarifies.  “But not for me.  I’ll get over it.  Probably.  Maybe.  Eventually.  Because it’s fine.  We’re bros.  And it’s not like it stops me from having feelings for other people, clearly.”

It clearly isn’t the answer Allison was looking for, based on the way her nose crinkles up.  But she smooths out her features, gently guides Stiles into turning around and wraps an arm around him.  “No, it doesn’t.  Because you’re Stiles, and you have an amazing capacity for feeling things strongly.  Including love.”

They haven’t directly said the words to each other, yet.  It’s early on, still, and they kinda tilted headfirst into sex before they started in seriously on the dating and feelings stuff.  And neither of them is really all that naturally predisposed to announcing their feelings all the time.  Stiles likes to pretend he isn’t feeling romantic feelings, generally, and although Allison is less averse, Scott was definitely the person to say it first in their relationship.  

It’s an odd kind of irony, really.  The two of them are together, and they both can say it as easy as breathing when it comes to Scott, but haven’t gotten up the guts yet to say it to each other.  Stiles would never deny how important to him Allison has become, how much he’s grown to enjoy spending time with her, making out instead of studying for economics, or eating Twizzlers and watching trashy TV at 2 AM, when they should both have been asleep already.  Talking about parents, and expectations, and loss.

But Stiles can do this.  Stiles can lean over and kiss her, can anchor her with one hand on her side and the other on her cheek, can kiss her until his lips are sore all over again.  He can tell her that people like Scott, that people like _her_ make it easy, give him something to feel strongly about.  He can drink in the way her dimples appear on her face, her concern sidelined, for the time being, at least, for a time later, when they both can talk about it honestly and openly.

But now isn’t that time, for either of them.  Stiles puts himself out there on the regular, runs his mouth way more than he should.  But Allison is different in the way Scott is different.  

When he says the words, he wants them to be perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr [here](http://sleepy-skittles.tumblr.com).


End file.
